


Chip on your shoulder

by Mishteeshim



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Random & Short, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:11:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishteeshim/pseuds/Mishteeshim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek glanced over, eyebrow raised in amusement. “So, how’s that giant chip on your shoulder?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chip on your shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually based entirely on a conversation I had with my roommate one night. I swear to god, I have no idea where it came from other than the fact that I was just DONE with that day it the worst way. Is short, yes, but I just had to share.

Stiles ran his hands down his face. “You know what?” He said blinking slowly before flopping face first onto Derek’s couch. “I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to save the world. Everyone can just go die. People suck anyway.”

Derek glanced over at the exhausted man, eyebrow raised in amusement. “So, how’s that giant chip on your shoulder?”

Stiles kept his face buried in the cushions. “It’s not a chip, Derek." came his muffled words. "Call it what it is. It’s a crater.” Derek rolled his eyes and snorted out a laugh.

Stiles sighed dramatically and turned his head, red marks on his face from the fabric and went on undeterred. “Yes, a crater. In fact, my shoulder is _missing_. My entire _arm_ is missing. I’m going through life one handed, Derek. I use to have two hands you know. Good and bad. One hand for patting people on the back and one for slapping. I used to be nice and encourage people with the patting hand, but then the chip on my shoulder grew into a crater and now I have no more arm.” He raised his right hand and looked at it morosely. “I have no patting hand, Derek. I’m left with only the slapping hand.” His left hand flailed about off to the side, tone bitter.

“You are the most dissonant 23-year-old I know.” Derek conceded, wondering when their rolls had switched.

“Yes. Yes I know.”


End file.
